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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29231739">Retrospective</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/paperdream/pseuds/paperdream'>paperdream</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Tumblr Prompt Fills [10]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Magnus Archives (Podcast)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Conspiracy Theories, Domestic Fluff, Happy Ending, M/M, Post-Canon, Prompt Fic, Terrible TV, soft</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 09:02:14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>385</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29231739</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/paperdream/pseuds/paperdream</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>The day’s last rays of sunlight filtered in through the blinds, and Jon was tucked under an afghan Martin had knitted himself. He hadn’t even been stress-knitting. Martin took a moment to revel in the peace of the moment before turning his attention to the screen.</i>
</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Tumblr Prompt Fills [10]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2107944</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>60</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Retrospective</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosy_cheekx/gifts">rosy_cheekx</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>takes place in the same post canon hea au concept as my jon goes to therapy fic.</p><p>Written for the tumblr prompt: "Lilac and dark blue, warm sunlight, shiver of anticipation. For the aesthetic prompts :)"</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jon wriggled in place on the couch, craning his neck to try to see into the kitchen. “Hurry up! It’s going to start!”</p><p>Martin skidded around the corner, flinging his arm out to counter the momentum and keep the popcorn bowlin his hand from spilling. “I can’t believe you’re making me watch this.” He collapsed onto the sofa next to Jon, who immediately curled into his side and took a large handful of popcorn from the bowl.</p><p>Jon glared imperiously down his nose for a single moment before breaking into a grin. “You’re excited too, and you know it!”</p><p>Martin grumbled something that could have been denial or assent and grabbed the remote, turning up the television’s volume several notches. The day’s last rays of sunlight filtered in through the blinds, and Jon was tucked under an afghan Martin had knitted himself. He hadn’t even been stress-knitting. Martin took a moment to revel in the peace of the moment before turning his attention to the screen.</p><p>
  <em>“</em>
  <em>One of the most momentous historical events of our time… and no one knows </em>
  <em>
    <b>how</b>
  </em>
  <em> or </em>
  <em>
    <b>why</b>
  </em>
  <em> it happened,” </em>
  <span>a portentiously voiced narrator intoned over a montage of suitably cataclysmic footage of building collapses, fires, and crime scenes, none of it from the event in question.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Martin snorted. Jon elbowed him. “No one </span>
  <em>knows!”</em>
  <span> he muttered in a dramatic, ghostly voice. Martin laughed again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The screen was overtaken by a shot skimming the Earth’s horizon from space, rapidly rounding the continents. </span>
  <em>“Was it mass hysteria? A fluke of quantum physics? Or…” </em>
  <span>the camera panned to point to the stars at the dramatic pause, </span>
  <em>“something entirely… alien?”</em>
</p><p>
  <span> Jon made a delighted noise that combined a squeal and a laugh to produce something that sounded like a particularly angry bee.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>“Hear first person accounts… See the evidence… Listen to the experts. Tonight, on the world premier of: </em>
  <em>
    <b>Modern Apocalypse: Seeing Clearly!</b>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span> Jon finally broke, throwing his head back and dissolving into giggles, tremors nearly upsetting the popcorn. Martin wrapped his arm around him. “I think it’s nice that even after everything, The History Channel is still the same!”</span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <span> “</span>
  </span>
  <span>
    <span>Jonah Magnus… was an alien</span>
  </span>
  <span>
    <span>…” Jon gasped through laughter, burying his face in Martin’s chest. Martin buried a kiss </span>
  </span>
  <span>
    <span>and a laugh</span>
  </span>
  <span>
    <span> in the hair of the man he loved, safe and content.</span>
  </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for reading! Maybe check out my other stuff or catch me on tumblr @inklingofadream?</p></blockquote></div></div>
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